


By The Skin And The Teeth

by yohlenyaoilover



Series: Prison Break: The Project [15]
Category: Prison Break
Genre: Circle Jerk, Implied/Referenced Incest, M/M, Multi, Referenced John/T-Bag, Referenced Michael/Lincoln
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-18
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-06-03 00:46:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,432
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6589879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yohlenyaoilover/pseuds/yohlenyaoilover
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>T-Bag is bored of being on guard look out, so he goes and finds himself a little entertainment in the PI crew.</p>
            </blockquote>





	By The Skin And The Teeth

**Author's Note:**

> Hello and welcome to my lovely project!  
> I've started re-watching Prison Break and plan on writing a short fic after each episode.  
> Each story will be titled to match the episode.  
> Sometimes the stories will relate directly to the main storyline, sometimes I'll pick out one moment that really strikes me and run with it.  
> This series will explore a whole bunch of pairings, with each one being a stand alone fic.
> 
> This story is for Season 1, Episode 15.  
> I don't even know any more. T-Bag hasn't had any loving in a while. I miss Abruzzi a whole bunch, he gets things dirty up in here.
> 
> Let's go!

T-Bag groaned and rolled his eyes to the back of his head. His hand squeezed around the clipboard he was holding.  
Sweet Jesus, he was bored.  
How he drew the short straw again to get guard watch duty was beyond him. T-Bag was starting to think the others were plotting against him.  
It was bitterly cold outside too, a soft flurry of snow drifted through the air, just enough to settle in a fine layer at his feet.   
T-Bag heaved a sigh and pulled the heavy metal door open and sauntered back inside the CO's break room. It was only marginally warmer in there.   
"Now I don't know about you guys but I sure could do with some warming up," T-Bag dropped the clipboard down to the tabletop on his left and tucked a hand suggestively in to the waistband of his work uniform. T-Bag was many things, but subtle wasn't one of them.  
Three of the four men in the room largely ignored him but Michael had an eye trained on him.   
"You know, I have some pretty decent ideas on just how to get warmed up," T-Bag raised an eyebrow, his hand slipping further in to his pants.   
"That's disgusting," Franklin threw his shovel down and turned his back to the other convict, disgust lacing his words. Westmoreland similarly turned his back, an awkward blush crossing his cheeks.  
T-Bag smirked and walked further in to the room, he disregarded the two on the right. He'd guessed both Franklin and Westmoreland wouldn't be game anyway.   
But Pretty however, and his cellie. Those two he could work on.   
"I don't know, nothing like a little mutual arrangement to get the heat rising,"  
A small breathy laugh escaped Pretty, seemingly against his will.  
"We have a plan to stick to," Franklin argued, throwing a disapproving glare at Scofield when the other inmate didn't disregard T-Bag instantly.   
"What's a few minutes when we have hours in this room?" T-Bag shrugged his shoulders.  
"I'm out of here," Franklin shook his head and shouldered past T-Bag. He scooped up the discarded clipboard and pulled open the heavy door aggressively. A brief gust of cold air passed through the room. Sucre shivered and edged closer to Scofield.  
"This is wrong man, a guard could walk by any time," The Puerto Rican frowned. Michael however hadn't once taken his eyes off of T-Bag.  
"We have old C-Note out there now, ain't no guards coming in here," T-Bag gave himself a gentle squeeze through his underwear. He just knew Pretty would be up for this.   
"Well, I'm far too old for you kids and your shenanigans," Westmoreland averted his eyes from the three other man and quickly made his escape from the room.   
T-bag followed his movements with his eyes but made no attempt to stop him. When the door clicked shut again, T-Bag gave his rapidly swelling dick another squeeze. Michael shifted, swayed his hips a little.  
"This is wrong man," Sucre broke the silence that had descended inside the room, repeating Franklin's words before he had departed.   
"Mm, seems a shame to be doing this without your brother," T-Bag lowered his voice and blinked slowly in Michael's direction. Michael smiled sadly and looked at the floor.  
"Or Abruzzi," His soft lilt pierced T-Bag. Oh, this kid knew how to play dirty. It was no secret that T-Bag and Abruzzi had a very dirty, very pornographic way of passing the time inside this prison.   
T-Bag had made it very clear that he knew exactly how Michael and Lincoln would pass the time too if they'd had the opportunity. It was a damn shame that Lincoln was stuck in Ad Seg. Would have made this little gathering much more exciting.   
"I have Maricruz," Sucre mumbled, shuffling his feet. Both T-Bag and Michael let out a laugh at that. A light blush crossed Sucre's face.   
"Forget them," T-Bag pulled his hand out of his pants in favour of unzipping them. Both Michael's and Sucre's eyes focused in on the action. The soft sound of the metal teeth unclasping was loud in the otherwise quiet room.   
"What happens in PI stays in PI," The southerner smiled lewdly. Michael let out a breathy laugh and gently copied T-Bag's action.   
The two pulled out their dicks at the same time. Sucre hesitated for half a second before fumbling his own zipper down and pulling himself free. T-Bag took the last few steps forwards until he was closing in on the other two.   
They formed a small circle, the heads of their dicks barely brushing together.   
T-Bag sucked in a breath through his teeth, used his fist to grip the base of his own shaft firmly. A small bead of precome formed at the tip. Michael pressed forwards a fraction, just enough for his own flushed head to touch the wetness. When his hips pulled back the two were connected via that delicate strand. Sucre pushed his own hips forward, his dick brushing impatiently against the other two. Heat shot up all three inmate's spines.   
"Fuck," T-Bag grunted out. It was taking a lot of self control not to just push forwards and take what he wanted from the other two. If Abruzzi had taught him anything during their time together, it was that patience was definitely a virtue.  
There was a deadly silence in the room apart from their gradually increasing breathing. Michael curled an arm around T-Bag's shoulders, the flat of his palm curled up and around the back of his neck.   
Sucre grunted and began jerking himself freely. He muttered half formed words of disbelief at his own actions but he seemed unable to stop.   
"Oh God," Michael shuddered and reached his other hand out, batting Sucre's away and replacing it with his own, mimicking his jerking rhythm.   
Sucre groaned loudly and copied Michael's actions by pulling T-Bag's hand away by his wrist and took up a firm grasp on the con's dick. T-Bag chuckled lightly and did the only thing he could; he took up a grasp on Michael's hard flesh, completing their little circle.  
Michael's fingers ran through the hair at the base of T-Bag's head softly.   
The three moved as one, each feeding off the other, increasing their pace until knees got weak.  
Michael was the first to relent. He sagged forwards slightly, putting more weight on T-Bag;s shoulders. He grunted, the sound so close to T-Bag's ear. His hips thrust forwards into that closed fist surrounding him, jerking and erratic until he groaned loudly. Hot come shot from his flushed dick, landing in thick white ropes against Sucre's and T-Bag's blue uniform pants.   
In his afterglow, Michael seemed to get sentimental. He gently brought his lips right up against T-Bag's. Their kiss was brief and almost innocent, just a barely there brush before he was moving to give Sucre the same treatment.  
It was strange how something so innocent and brief could affect them all so much. Sucre accepted the kiss openly and thrust his hips in to Michael's fist. The smell of sex was starting to permeate the air, it combined with their panting breaths to create a heady mixture of arousal and lust. Sucre grunted and let go, his release shooting out to join Michael's in staining their pants.   
T-Bag used his free hand to cover Sucre's, the one that had grown slack around his own arousal. He guided them both until T-bag reached his peak as well. He bit his bottom lip harshly as he came, holding back the groan he wanted to release.  
The three stood, panting gently for a time before T-Bag chuckled and stepped back, tucking himself away and wiping at the stains both Michael and Sucre had made on his uniform.   
"Well, that was a lovely way to get warmed up," T-Bag smiled widely at the other two men who were both tucking themselves away. Michael laughed gently and avoided eye contact with either of them. It was such an innocent reaction, it sent waves of something similar to lust chasing down T-Bag's spine all over again.   
Sucre blushed fiercely and turned away, back to his previous position. T-Bag pulled the cap he was wearing up briefly to wipe at his head before replacing it at it's jaunty angle.   
"Well we should definitely do this again some time," T-Bag moved his eyebrows suggestively before turning to leave.  
Franklin and Westmoreland returned soon after, both seemingly determined not to mention what just happened. And Michael worked through the rest of the PI shift with a small smile on his lips.


End file.
